Huntress In The Night
by LovingHimWasRed3
Summary: Elizabeth, a Shadowhunter, is new to Beacon Hills, with no idea of the insane events that are about to take place in the town. She intended to start off fresh, away from the wars and losses she'd suffered, and away from the supernatural. But Beacon Hills is far from an ordinary town, and she soon realizes it along with her new friends and enemies. OC/Stiles Season 1- NOW UPDATED
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

It was the first day of the school year. Some found this time to completely start over, a fresh beginning, like the arrival of spring; when nature is reborn. And others looked forward to continue holding up their so called reputations.

I happened to do neither one of those things. Sure, I was new at Beacon Hills, but I didn't move here from London to start over, despite what my aunt, Sydney, would say. And I'd never had a status of a queen bee or a jock, or anything like that. But that was probably because I'd never been to high school before this.

Yes, I was home schooled. No, it was for none of the reasons you might be thinking.

Kids like me never went to regular school. We never had ordinary lives, either.

They call us the Nephilim or Shadowhunters. We're a race of hunters who are half human and half angel, created by the angel Raziel himself to eradicate the world of demons and keep humans safe.

One of our special qualities is our heightened senses of strength, hearing, and seeing. We owe it all to the black Runic marks that we apply to our skin. Our skin and blood allow the Runes to be drawn. Any other human or creature can't bear the Marks. Basically, they allow us to do anything one could imagine of.

But the thing about the Runes is that they may look like tattoos to regular people, and that's not a significant issue, except that not all Runes are permanent and you apply new ones all the time. That raises questions. Fortunately, a glamour rune can be used to hide them from humans. Supernatural creatures and some people can see through the the glamour, though. It just takes practice or the Sight.

And that's why I never leave the house without my Stele, a wand-like instrument that we use to draw the Runes.

In fact, it was cleverly concealed in my left boot, as I parked my car in the parking lot of the school.

I sighed, and looked out the window at all the kids. They were all so different, yet they all came for the same reason: to study at this hellhole.

Staring at the rear view mirror, I ran a hand through my long blond curls and inspected my makeup. Just because I didn't like school didn't mean I didn't have to look good.

Deciding that I didn't want to be late at my first day, I stepped out of the car. I felt nervous as I walked towards the entrance. I didn't know anyone and I didn't know anything about this town.

Suddenly, I heard a couple wolf whistles and I rolled my eyes. Are they kidding me? It was just unnecessary and uncalled for. I mean, I knew I wasn't not good looking, but I loathed being judged and seen as just another pretty face.

I was considering trying out a new karate move I learned on those boys, when I rammed right into someone.

"Sorry," I said, sheepishly.

The boy was tall and had deep brown eyes that you could literally get lost in. "No, no, no. That was totally my fault," he rambled as if he was nervous and embarrassed. I had no idea why he would've been, but I thought it was sort of cute in a dorky way.

I grinned, amused when he asked, "Are you new here? I don't think I've seen you around before."

"Yeah, I'm from London, actually," I said.

"I noticed the cool accent," he said, which made me laugh. "My name's Stiles." He extended his arm out.

"Elizabeth. But you can call me Liz," I told him. "I should go now," I said, kind of disappointed. This was the first guy I met here and he wasn't a complete jerk. Who knew when that would happen again? It was like the Aurora Borealis: magical, yet extremely rare. "But, I'll see you around?"

I said it as more of a question than a statement to know if he's actually interested in being friends.

He nodded. "Yes, of course. Definitely."

I walked away, internally smiling but I wasn't really sure why. I thought there was something amusing and entertaining about Stiles, so I'd really like to talk to to him again.

After the bell rang, I sat on a bench outside the school, talking to my aunt on the phone.

"You need to stop calling every half hour, Sydney."

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

I rolled my eyes. "'Course, I'm fine. Never better."

Sydney sighed. "Right. You're ready for school, then? Got everything with you?"

I was rummaging through my bag when she said that, and groaned. "Every thing except a pen. Can't believe I forgot a pen."

At that moment a girl with dark raven hair sat down next to me. She was as fair as snow but really pretty... and familiar.

"I have to go," I spoke into the phone.

I smiled at the girl. "I'm assuming you're new here, too?"

"Yeah," she said, nodding. "Am I that easy to read? Yeah, probably..." She studied me intently. "Lizzie?"

I took in the dark hair eyes and rosy cheeks, and something hit me. "Allie?"

Allison laughed and pulled me into a bone crushing hug. "I knew it was you! I haven't seen you in so long."

"It's been ages. How've you been?"

"Great," she said. "Just constantly moving around. I lived in Frisco for over a year, surprisingly. You were in London, right? My dad ran into you guys when he was there a while back. I had no idea you came here."

"Neither did I."

"I heard about your parents," she said, suddenly. "I'm sorry. They were always good to me-"

I forced a smile, not wanting to discuss the topic. "You nervous for today?"

Allison frowned at my changing the subject but didn't object.

The vice principal strolled over to us before Allison could reply. "Sorry to keep you two waiting. If you'll follow me..."

He led us inside down the hall. "I know you two aren't from around here, so hopefully Beacon Hills will be your last stop for a while." He opened a classroom door. "Class, this is Elizabeth Cartwright and Allison Argent. They're new students here so please do your best to make them feel welcome."

I smiled at him thankfully and Allison said, "Thanks."

I moved to the back of the class and sat behind a cute boy with shaggy brown hair, while Allison sat on his right. I could've sworn I saw them smile at each other adoringly for a moment. Maybe it was a trick of the mind. Or the fact that I was also distracted by a certain someone.

Stiles smiled at me, awkwardly, and I gave him a small wave. The boy in front of me turned around, clutching a pen in his hand.

I smiled slightly and took the pen. "Um, thanks."

As soon as he turned around, my smile faded. Sure, it was a kind gesture, but how did he know that I needed one? I hadn't even asked him. It definitely could've been a coincidence, but growing up knowing about the Shadow world, I knew there were no coincidences.

* * *

When Allison and I stepped out of the classroom, I felt free. Free to criticize the lesson, that is.

I groaned. "That was awful!"

Allison chuckled at my childish behaviour. "It wasn't _that _bad."

I scoffed. "I beg to differ. I have better things to do than learn things I already know. And for the record, I don't care for Kafka's Metamorphosis."

We stood by Allison's locker when I noticed she looked distracted. I waved a hand in front of her face, snapping her out of her dazed and dreamy expression.

"What's gotten you so distracted?" I spun my head around to catch sight of Stiles and the boy who had lent me a pen. I made a mental note to return it to him later.

I smirked, mischievously. "Oh, I see..."

I looked back at the duo, curious about the boy's peculiar action. There was no possible way he could've known. Was there?

"And you." I heard a girl's voice say to me. A petite and beautiful girl with bright red hair the colour of flame was staring at me, not in a rude way, though. "With the gorgeous hair." She grinned. "Tell me, how do you get it so voluminous?"

I was both flattered and creeped out. "Um, Moroccan oil?"

She smiled, approvingly. "And you two are my new best friends. Hey, Jackson," she said to a tall handsome boy with blond hair who had just walked over to them.

They started kissing, much to Allison's surprise. I just grinned in an amused manner. It was awkward, sure, but comical, nevertheless.

When the redhead pulled back, she said, "I'm Lydia, by the way."

"Liz," I said, "and this is Allison."

"So, this weekend there's a party."

"A party?" Allison asked.

"Yes, Allie. A party. A social gathering. Blowout. Celebration," I explained, as if she was a little kid. "I'm sure you're familiar with the concept."

She glared and shoved me before her face broke out into a smile. "It's nice to know you haven't changed."

Lydia's boyfriend, Jackson, stared at us. "You knew each other?"

Allison nodded. "Old family friends."

"Great," he said. "Then you both you should come this Friday."

"Uh," Allison stuttered, and I knew she was thinking of a believable bluff to tell them, "this Friday's family night. Thanks for asking, though."

I raised my eyebrow at her, but she silently begged me not to say otherwise.

"How about you, Liz?"

"Well... I don't suppose I have a say in this, do I?"

Lydia smiled at how I knew exactly what she was thinking. "Nope."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "I guess I'll just cancel all my plans that day."

"You sure, though?" Jackson asked Allison. "Everyone's going after the scrimmage."

"You mean like football?" Allison asked, confused.

He scoffed. "Football's a joke in Beacon. The sport here is lacrosse. We've won the state championship for the past three years."

"Because of a certain team captain," Lydia bragged, her arm snaking around Jackson, as they briefly shared a loving gaze at each other.

"Well, we have practice in a few minutes," he went on, "that is, if you don't have anywhere else-"

"Actually, I was going to-"

"Perfect." Lydia linked arms with Allison. "You're coming."

They began marching ahead while Jackson and I followed behind. I didn't have a choice in that either. Whatever happened to free will?

We picked up our coats before continuing wandering down the halls.

"You play any sports?"

No good and true friendships began with lies- and I knew that very well- so I told Jackson the closest thing to the truth without compromising my Shadowhunter identity.

"A lot of martial arts and gymnastics." Basically everything I'd need for slaying demons.

His eyes widened. "Really? That's impressive. Most girls I know prefer cheerleading."

I scoffed. "That is a vicious stereotype. I happen to hate it."

He laughed before he left to the locker rooms. Allison, Lydia, and I stepped on the bleachers a little while after.

The cool wind blew across our faces and I pulled on my beanie when my head felt the chill. I had no intention of catching a cold.

I saw all the players in their mahogany jerseys crowding around. Coach was speaking to one of them- the boy from English who'd given me a pen. Still suspicious of him, my eyesight never left from him. He ran out to goal with a stick after Coach blew his whistle.

"Who is that?" I heard Allison ask suddenly. I didn't even have to shift my gaze, because I was already looking his way. It might have been embarrassing under different circumstances, but I needed to know if there was anything weird going on with him- anything out of the ordinary.

"Him?" Lydia stared for a few seconds, thinking intently. "I'm not sure who he is. Why?"

Allison shook her head. "He's in my English class."

I furrowed my eyebrows. Of course she was interested in him. They were staring at each other a bunch of times.

Practice begun and the goalie was hit my the ball in his face.

"Hey, way to catch with your face McCall!"

Much to my- everyone's- surprise, he managed to stop the ball from hitting the net for the second shot. He looked shocked himself.

Several more times he caught the ball again, doing crazy stunts here and there. He had insane reflexes if he could do all that.

"He seems good," Allison observed, clearly impressed.

Lydia nodded in agreement. "Very good," I added in a light voice.

Unfortunately all good things must come to an end. I knew that would happen as soon as Jackson prepared to strike.

The goalie, himself, was terrified. His aura practically screamed panic and trepidation.

No one actually expected him to intercept Jackson's shot, but this boy was full of surprises. I felt that he would never cease to amaze everyone.

In the exact moment when the ball made contact with the goalie's stick, Lydia and I sprung up. We cheered openly and blatantly. I was in awe, in spite of being a difficult person to impress. Out of my peripheral vision, I noticed Allison beaming. I decided then that I would not let her little interest in this boy slide this time. Who knew? It could be the beginning of a something beautiful.

* * *

It was raining. The roads were soaked and slippery as if there were black ice covering it. Anyone who didn't watch their step could definitely slip and break something.

I was heading home after taking a drive around the town, getting to know where everything was. The music was floating through the speakers, filling my ears with the sweet and angelic melody of Ed Sheeran's voice.

Suddenly, the car slowed to a stop and when I started the engine again, it totally failed me. I smacked my head against the steering wheel in pure frustration. "Goddamn it! Not now!"

I got out of the car to fix the situation, not caring how wet I got. I just wanted to get the car running so I could get home on time before Sydney got a chance to freak out.

It was dark outside. Like falling into a deep abyss, not being able to clearly make out your surroundings. And I realized I wasn't anywhere close to civilization.

Sighing, I pulled out a stone from my pocket. It didn't look like much, but when my fingers brushed the rough surface, white light spilled from between them, illuminating the atmosphere. It was a Witchlight, made from pure adamas. My mother had given it to me on my thirteenth birthday.

I was too occupied in getting the engine running that I didn't see another car pull up next to mine.

"You all right there?"

Hastily, I shoved my Witchlight back into my pocket, and the light diminished. I shifted my gaze to see a familiar boy with brown eyes. "Stiles?"

He walked over to me, trying to cover up from the heavy raindrops. "What are you doing out here? It's late and I don't know if you noticed, but it's raining!"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, I noticed, alright. My car stopped working. I know how to fix it, I just can't with all this rain."

He inspected the problem and decided that he'd give me a ride and I'd have to come back in the morning for the car. So, that was how I ended up riding shotgun in his Jeep, soaked to the bone.

"Driving around," I replied when Stiles asked me what exactly I was doing out there. My phone began to ring. My eyes widened. It was Sydney.

"Hey, Aunt Sydney," I said cheerfully. "How was work?"

Stiles glanced at my merry mood strangely before I glared at him.

"Good," she answered, chuckling. "Are you planning on coming home tonight?"

"I... actually ran into a friend, so I'm gonna be late," I lied, smoothly, "but don't worry about me."

We said our goodbyes before I hung up. "You," Stiles declared, "are a horrible person."

My jaw dropped. "Am not!"

"Are too. You just lied to your Aunt and you're not the slightest bit ashamed."

"I just-" I started, "I need time away from the house." Stiles waited for me to explain why, but I didn't. I didn't feel obligated to tell him anything about my personal life. We'd just met after all.

"You're not gonna tell me why?" he asked, surprised. "I, so graciously, saved you from the storm and now you won't catch a cold, and yet-"

"It's mild rain," I corrected. "And I've got a strong immune system, so-"

"Fine." He set his jaw, stubbornly, contemplating. "I will... let you crash at my place, provided you tell me why you don't want to go home."

It was a good bargain. I would do a lot to avoid having to go back to Sydney. But I didn't think I was prepared to spill my secrets to anyone, let alone a boy I'd met not even a week ago. But I didn't say I'd turn it down.

"Okay, okay. Not bad. How about, you let me crash at your house and...you can go to Lydia's party this Friday-"

"I was already going-"

"With me," I finished. "As a date."

He didn't respond for a while, and I thought he'd gone into shock. I shook his arm. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he said. "Are you serious about the offer?"

I grinned. He'd already forgotten about his bargain which was exactly what I had been going for. I smiled at him, sweetly. "You don't have to say yes. You can think about it while we're at your house."

The Jeep came to a halt, and we got out and into his house. It was warm, and I was grateful for that. It was like my mother's chicken noodle soup; providing warmth and comfort.

"I know it's small, but-"

"No, no, it's perfect," I said, serenely. "I hate coming home to a huge empty house. It gets really lonely."

He seemed to never being surprised by me. It was actually becoming irritating. "Why don't you get cleaned up?" he said. "My room is the first door to the right upstairs. Do you have extra clothes?"

"Yeah." I went upstairs to his bathroom, got showered and changed. I was drying my hair when I began to acknowledge his room. Posters and shelves adorned the walls and it was a bit untidy with papers and books scattered about.

I lifted up one of the papers and was a little surprised to see what it was about. Lycanthropy. Shapeshifters. Werewolves.

Now why would he have these? I was afraid to know the answer. He might've been one. That happened to be the answer I dreaded the most. Or he might've been very fascinated with mythology and the supernatural. It sounded better, alright. But whether it was more likely, I wasn't so sure.

I made my way downstairs to the kitchen when the strong aroma of coffee hit me.

"What are you doing?"

Stiles turned around. He was playing with a coffee machine, not exactly sure of what he was doing. "How do you like your coffee?"

I bit my lip, kind of feeling bad. I mean, he worked so hard. "I don't."

His eyes widened. "You don't drink coffee?"

I walked over to him. "Do you realize how bad it is for you?"

He scratched his head. "I guess not."

I removed the coffee he was holding from his hand. "You go freshen up. I'll handle this. Besides, you're going to set the kitchen on fire."

When he didn't agree right away, I pretended to be offended. "You don't trust me?"

"No, that's not-"

"I don't understand," I said, forcing myself to get teary eyed. "Did I do something wrong?"

I saw that he felt really bad when I began to cry. He grabbed my hands to stop me from losing it. "Okay, fine. Go ahead."

The waterworks stopped as fast as lightning. I smiled like nothing ever happened. "Great." Stiles frowned, realizing what trap he'd fallen for. I ruffled his hair, playfully.

"Don't feel so bad," I said. "I've been told I'm a pretty good actress."

"Not just good," he muttered too low for me to make out.

By the time he came back, I was pouring piping hot tea into two cups in the living room.

"So, you like tea?"

"Not only is a lot better for your health, it even tastes better," I said. Most people thought it was funny how I was British and addicted to tea. I'd shut them right up with a threat. I would've liked tea even if I wasn't English. "Do you take yours sweet?"

He furrowed his eyebrows, setting himself on the sofa next to me. "I don't actually know."

My eyes widened. "You've never had tea?!"

He raised his arms in the air, as if to say _I mean no harm_. "My dad likes tea. Not me."

I added some honey in his cup, anyway, and passed it to him, doing the same to my cup.

"Well?" I asked, eagerly, after he sipped his drink.

"It's actually not bad," he said, sounding surprised.

I smiled at him. I found that I'd been doing that a lot lately, though I wasn't entirely sure as to why.

"My Mum and Dad used to love it," I said out of nowhere.

"Used to?"

"They-they died about a year ago," I managed to say. "That's why I can't go home. I had PTSD after that. I'm fine now, but my aunt thinks I'm mentally unstable. I hate being treated like that. Like I'm fragile, and I might just crack any moment." I didn't know why I was opening up all of a sudden, but I didn't want to stop. It felt good to get that off my chest. "I don't like telling people. They go running in the other direction."

I wasn't sure what was going on in Stiles's head. He was a little surprised, though. I didn't appear like someone who'd had a mental illness. "Well, I'm not gonna run. Mostly because this is my house," he told me, "and I went through something similar after my mom died."

I shifted to look at him. "Really?"

He nodded. "Panic attacks." I was a little taken aback. Stiles was so laidback, I'd never imagined him to go through anything like that. Unlike me, though, he wasn't ashamed to tell me that. And that was when I knew, he was going to be someone who I would really look up to. Someone who was going to play an important role in my life.

I set my teacup down, before slowly wrapping my hand around his. It wasn't a gesture to make him feel uncomfortable, it was just to let him know that I'd understood and that he wasn't alone. His hands were hard and calloused, but felt warm and safe. We locked eyes for a moment, and I wouldn't have broken eye contact if someone hadn't interrupted.

"Stiles," a tall man in police uniform stared at us, looking a little embarrassed. "I didn't realize you had company-"

I rose from my seat in a rush. "I was actually leaving."

Stiles followed suit. "I'll go get your bag," he said, heading upstairs.

I shot him a threatening glance. I didn't want to be left alone with the town's Sheriff. Sure, I didn't have a criminal record, but there were plenty of things I'd done that should remain unknown by the cops.

I flashed my signature smile. The kind I gave to everyone when I intended to impress. "I'm Liz," I said, shaking his hand. "You're Stiles's father?"

"Yes," he said with a slight smile on his face. "I can imagine why he would leave out his father being Beacon Hill's Sheriff. It might be intimidating-"

"No, it's fine. I'm just shocked, I suppose. Not that I have anything to hide," I added quickly, before he thought I was a juvenile delinquent.

But he just laughed. "You sound just like Stiles."

"Alright, Liz," Stiles said, appearing out of the corner. "We should get going."

I took my bag from Stiles's hand and turned to his father once more. "It was nice meeting you."

"You too, Liz." Then he turned to Stiles, smirking. "She's quite the keeper."

"Dad," Stiles whined, quietly, as if I wasn't supposed to hear that.

I tried to hide the blush appearing on my cheeks. I imagined I looked like a bright red strawberry. When we walked to the powder blue Jeep, I said, "You didn't tell me you're the son of the Sheriff."

Turning the key to start the car, Stiles looked at me, confused. "I didn't think it was necessary."

I shrugged. "Well, it would've been nice to know."

He chuckled. "Well, I don't think you've done anything illegal so..."

I raised my eyebrow, accusingly. "You don't?"

"Should I?" He asked worried.

"Just keep your options open." I pointed out the window to my street. "Turn over here."

The car slowed to a stop, and I remembered something that had been bothering me the entire night. "So, listen, I-"

"Thanks for tonight," he said suddenly.

"What do you mean?"

"I guess I just needed someone to talk to," he said, not meeting my eyes and gripping the wheel tightly. "Someone who understands."

I would've been a jerk if I ruined the moment, so I didn't. "Yeah, yeah, of course. Anytime."

He tried for a smile. "So, I guess I'll pick you up on Friday?"

I laughed and got out of the car. "Don't be late."

"I hope your Aunt doesn't kill you!"

I glared daggers at him. "And I thought we were friends!"

We laughed at each other's childish antics. "Good night!" He yelled finally, and I had a feeling it would be.


	2. Author's note

Author's note

So, this is the updated and improved story that focuses on the life of Elizabeth Cartwright through her time at Beacon Hills. And the first chapter is the one before this author's note.

I hope you guys will give it a try, because I've got a lot of ideas to incorporate in it.

I believe that re writing the story was the right decision because now I'm not so limited with the plot and characters of it.

I'd really appreciate it if you'd all review, follow, and favorite my story.

The next chapter will be of the party and more insight on Elizabeth's hunting life!

Thanks again!


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It was Friday night, and I was feeling profoundly frustrated. I had nothing to wear to the party. Absolutely nothing. It was one of the many teenage girl problems I had to suffer. Sometimes, I wondered whether homeschooling was still an option or not.

"I've got nothing," I spoke into the phone.

Allison sighed. "You must have something."

I groaned and said, "Well, if I do, I most certainly can't find it."

_Knock knock_

"I'll see you there, Allie," I said and hung up the phone.

"That was Allison?" Sydney asked, curiously. I nodded. "Speaking of the Argents," she went on, "we're going hunting tonight, and I know you're going to a party, but I thought it'd be nice if you came. Get into old routines again and all."

I sighed. I wanted to go. Of course I did. Shadowhunting was in my blood and I loved it. But I also had to make sure I fit in as a normal high school teenager, and going to a party would really help that cover.

"I can't," I said, sadly.

Sydney nodded like she knew that was going to be the answer. "Well, I'll text you anyway, in case you change your mind..."

I nodded, feeling as though I'd disappointed her. One of the things I hated most was letting people down, and it felt like that was exactly what I was doing.

Sydney smiled brightly anyway, but it was the slightest bit forced. "Have fun, anyway. Don't be home late. And don't-"

"I get it," I said, giggling. "We don't need to have this talk."

After she'd left, I found an outfit that I thought was good for this occasion. Something not too dressy and it didn't make it look like I was trying too hard which I probably was.

A lace mint coloured crop top, my favourite blue skinny jeans that folded up to my mid calf, and, of course, a pair of grey ankle boots that gave me an extra height of four inches.

I put my golden blond hair into a high pony tail and finished applying my makeup before rummaging though my drawers for other fitting accessories. My eyes flickered across a dainty old necklace I'd never worn before. It had a thin golden chain with a pendant of an intricate shape that had three swirls emerging from the centre. I decided that I liked it and fastened it around my throat.

And obviously, I couldn't leave the house without a weapon of some sort. I needed the most covertly disguised weapon I could find, so I settled for my electrum whip. It was a shiny silver shade and it resembled a snake, and it curled around my right forearm perfectly, looking like a bracelet. It was a gift from an old friend and I loved it to no end.

It was almost time for Stiles to pick me up, so I shoved my Stele in the side of my boot and skipped downstairs.

"Liz," I heard Sydney's voice from the living room. "There's someone here for you."

In the living room sat my Aunt, as well as my date. "Stiles," I said, surprised. "You're here."

His jaw dropped for a second when his eyes fell on me. "Yeah, I hope I'm not late."

"No, of course not." I turned to Sydney. "We should go now." She smiled politely at Stiles as we made our way to his Jeep, but I knew there were other thoughts swirling around in her mind. She didn't approve of my dating anyone other than a Shadowhunter. So, basically, she didn't approve of my dating in general, because I never went out with Nephilim boys. Majority of them were selfish and arrogant, treating any other species as inferior. That's why I liked Mundanes (**humans or mortals**) and Downworlders (**werewolves, vampires, warlocks, faerie, etc**). They had more truth and flaw in them than Shadowhunters would ever have.

* * *

Entering Lydia's house, I deemed it in one word: enormous. It was a lovely house, save for all the other mindless kids partying around in it.

"You look beautiful, by the way," Stiles told me, suddenly.

I'd been told that by many people, friends and family. But I'd never thought it as solemn. I'd thought they were just empty compliments, like the words of a soothsayer, words that were meant to flatter me. But Stiles saying it really made me feel beautiful, as silly as it sounded.

I severely hoped he didn't see me blushing, because I refused to make eye contact. "Thanks. You clean up pretty nicely yourself." And he did. He was clad in a light purple button down shirt with a matching tie. The tie was a nice touch.

Staring around at the scene before me, I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do. Should I ask him if he wanted to dance? I didn't have a clue.

Fortunately, Stiles did know what to do. "I'll go get us some drinks."

After he'd left, Allison and the boy from English approached me. "Hey, you made it!" I said, loudly over the clamorous music.

Allison smiled. She looked happy. Like she did over mint chocolate chip ice cream. "I'll be right back," she told me and her date, so I stood by awkwardly beside a boy I hardly knew.

"I'm Scott," he said, shaking my hand.

"Liz," I answered.

His eyes widened as he realized something. "Oh, you're Liz! You're here with Stiles. Honestly, you're a lot prettier than I thought you'd be."

Wow. People would just not stop showering me with compliments. It was actually nice, though. I cleared my throat. "So, um, thanks for the pen." Was that seriously the only thing I could come up with?

He nodded. "You're welcome."

I grinned. "So, you're pretty great at lacrosse, aren't you?"

He scratched his head. "Oh, no. That was nothing, really." So much modesty. Allison had found a good one, I'll admit.

"It was definitely something. Don't sell yourself short."

"Thanks," he said, as if he didn't hear that often. "You'd be good for him. For Stiles." The profound honesty in his voice surprised me. "I like your tattoos, by the way.

And then he was gone, off to find Allison. He'd seen my Runes, through the glamour. He could _see _them. There was a possibility he possessed the Sight. The Sight was a special quality all supernatural possessed which allowed them to see through glamour magics. Mundanes (**humans**) having it was scarce, but not impossible. But I didn't believe that that was Scott's case. Not after the inexplicable pen incident and amazing lacrosse performance.

"Here you go," Stiles appeared holding a red cup, snapping me out of my insane conspiracies.

The strong stench of alcohol hit me, and my face crinkled in disgust. "Stiles, I don't drink."

I found that alcohol made people behave stupidly, even the wisest and smartest people were severely affected. I understood that people needed a way of drowning out their problems when it was too much to bear for them, but drugs was not the solution. They numbed the pain for a while, but when the effects wore off, and they would, the pain was ten times worse. Either way, I didn't see the appeal.

Stiles's eyes widened. "Sorry, I had no idea-"

I waved away his apologies, tossing the beer cup in the trash can and pulling him alongside me to the kitchen.

I poured myself some soda. "So..." I trailed off. "Tell me about yourself."

He grinned. "What do you want to know?"

We sat perched on the marble counter side by side. "Anything. What do you do for fun?"

"Well, besides lacrosse," he said, "just doing crazy things with Scott. Going on adventures."

"How long have you known Scott?"

"Since we were little kids," he said. "We're best friends, but really, he's my brother." I smiled softly. I really liked hearing him talk about something he loved, or someone. "What about you?"

"Oh," I said, pulling back a few stray hairs out of my face. "Painting. Sketching. Drawing." I turned to look at him. "In fact, you should let me paint you."

"No," he said, quickly. "I don't think so."

"What?" I said. "Come on, you'll love it."

He didn't seem to agree. "Maybe you should paint flowers or trees. Something nice."

I frowned. "You're nice. And besides, it'll turn out great. Your face is all angles and planes. It'll make a great portrait. I promise."

Stiles sighed. "I don't think you're going to take no for an answer, are you?"

A smile crept on my face. "You already know me so well. So, do you like to travel?"

He shrugged. "I've never been outside the country."

"Really? The world is a book, you know, and those who do not travel only read one page."

He laughed at my dramatic demeanor. "Well, then, do tell me. How many pages of this book have you read?"

I thought about it. "My father said I've been to America once before when I was young but I can't remember at all. I mostly roam Europe. England, Wales, Ireland, France, Italy, and Greece, of course." I left out a vital part of the answer: Idris, the Shadowhunter country, but I couldn't tell him that. "My dad was half Greek, actually, so I've got Greek roots and spent a good part of my childhood there."

"Seriously?" he said. "I never would've guessed that."

"You wouldn't believe what my middle name is, then."

He began to list all the Greek female mythological names he could think of. Aphrodite, Hera, Persephone, Artemis, and so many more.

"It's Ariadne!" I said in frustration. "From the story of Theseus and the Minotaur."

"Oh," he said, dumbfounded. "I was leaning towards Helen."

I grinned, as a thought occurred to me. "Speaking of names, is Stiles really your name?"

He shook his head. "No. And I'm not gonna tell you."

I pouted. "I swear I won't tell anyone."

He chuckled at my begging him. "Nope."

I frowned. "I don't think it's appropriate that I don't even know your real name while we're dating."

He turned to me, shocked. "We're dating?"

Did I really just say that? Now, he probably thought I was crazy. "Well, I just assumed," I said, trying to keep my cool, "that if this date went well... Stop laughing at me!" I yelled, angrily.

"Sorry," he said between his laughs. "You're cute when you're nervous."

"I wasn't- I wasn't nervous," I insisted.

He smiled. "Sure. And pigs can fly."

I gaped at him. "That's it. I'm leaving."

I turned to leave when I felt strong arms spin me around and pull me back. I stumbled but luckily Stiles caught me. We stood barely a centimetre apart. I could feel his warm breath on my face, the chocolate river in his eyes swirling around, and just as we both began to lean in, I sprung back.

My gaze flickered here and there. "Did you see that?"

Stiles scrunched up his eyebrows. "See what?"

My Shadowhunter senses kicked in. I saw a swift shadow moving about, and I followed it upstairs.

"Liz!" Stiles called, worried. "Elizabeth, there's nothing there."

But I didn't listen. I couldn't if there was a potential demon in the house. Making my way up to the corridor, I hid behind a wall. I willed my snake-like whip to uncurl from around my forearm so that it was still attached to my wrist, but I could use it. At the opportune moment- when the assumed demon decided to change its position- I leaped into the room, and there it was.

It's blue skin glowed in the moonlight, and it looked even uglier then. It's long tentacles drifted about, waiting to attack me.

When it swung, I ducked, and my reflexes activated. I was filled with a rush of adrenaline, and I loved the feeling. It was the feeling I got when I hunted.

My whip attached itself around the demon's wrist, and it went flying into the wall. I hoped no one heard that, because this would've been difficult to explain.

I front rolled away when it thrust it's tentacles to where I'd stood.

"Liz!" I heard Stiles saying my name, wondering where I'd gone to.

And suddenly, the creature leaped at me, spitting a corrosive black substance in my direction. I moved aside, but not quick enough. I'd let myself be distracted, and now the black liquid burned on my arm, seering my skin.

The demon snarled viciously as I cried out in pain. But I wasn't going to go down that easy. I was stronger than that.

Ignoring the stinging feeling on my forearm, I swung my whip and it curled around the demon's throat. It flung its tentacles at me again, but I front flipped over them. With all my strength, I pulled at the whip, and the creature choked.

I wasn't about to kill it yet. Not without answers, at least. I'd learned when I was younger that demons were especially attracted to Nephilim. They'd usually ignore Mundanes, but not us Shadowhunters, so I understood if it'd followed me. But it couldn't have been stupid enough to attack at a high school party, where there was an abundance of witnesses.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded.

It tried pulling at my whip that was strangling it, but failed. I became frustrated when it failed to answer me. I yanked harder at the whip, and the demon cried out in a ghastly voice.

"He has come," it managed to choke out words. "He seeks..."

"Who does he seek?" I pressed on, not particularly sure on who 'he' was. The answer was not at all what I expected.

"His beta. His new beta."

I paused for a second, trying to grasp the thought. "Who is the beta? Is he here!?"

The demon managed to nod. I was shocked for two very different reasons. One: because there was an Alpha in town, searching for his beta who so happened to be at Lydia's party. Two: this was a pretty cooperative demon.

"Thanks so much for your cooperation. Unfortunately," I said grimly, hauling the silver whip once more hard, "you're of no use now."

It was harsh and cruel to murder the wretched creature like that, but that was how we were trained. There was no shred of humanity in demons, they didn't deserve to live. They were only to be sent back to the void, where they came from.

I wiped the dust off my jeans as I stood up. I walked away from the mess of demon blood and ashes. Hastily, I scribbled an iratze on my arm, where I'd injured myself. The iratze was a healing rune, so I felt my arm recover from the pain it had been in almost right away.

My phone buzzed. A text message from Sydney.

_It's time to hunt. I'm outside the house if you're up for it._

I exhaled loudly. It was exactly what I needed. I needed to talk to her about what I'd just heard. I needed answers.

_On my way._

I ran into Stiles on the staircase. He breathed, relieved. "There you are. Where did you go?"

"Never mind that," I said, rushed. "I need to go. There's been an emergency-"

"Everything okay?" he asked, half worried and half like he didn't believe me.

I nodded. "Yes. No. I mean, I have to go." Noticing the disappointed expression on his face, I kissed him on the cheek. "I'll see you on Monday. You still owe me a painting, by the way."

I dashed outside, hopping into Sydney's car.

I still felt awful for ditching Stiles like that, but that changed as soon as I saw Sydney dressed in her black leather gear. It reminded me of the times when that was what I lived for.

Sydney smiled knowingly. "Glad you could make it." She tossed me a dark leather jacket. "Don't want to get caught in bright clothing, do you?"

When we arrived at our destination, I got out of the car eagerly. I couldn't wait to see what we were going to do. From the trunk, Sydney handed me my beautifully wooden carved bow and quiver full of different arrows. I slung the quiver around my waist. While most hunters preferred to wear the quiver like a rucksack around their shoulders or backs, I liked having it this way. It was more quicker and easier to draw arrows, especially during intense fights.

Sheathing my dual daggers, I followed my aunt to where a large group of hunters were gathered.

"Argent," Sydney said to an older man with short blond hair with a firm face, who I recalled in my memory, "this is Elizabeth, my niece. Liz, this is Chris Argent, Allison's father."

I remembered then that Allison came from a family of old hunters, yet didn't know of her true lineage herself. Everyone had colossal family secrets, I supposed.

"We're looking for the Alpha," Chris said, sternly. "If you find him, do not kill. There will be _no_ killing. Only maiming or injuring in order to capture. Remember," he said to the other hunters, excluding myself and Sydney, "_we hunt those who hunt us._"

Everyone dispersed while Sydney, Chris, and I stuck together, treading through the dark and dangerous woods with my bow in my left hand.

"So, what exactly did this Alpha do?" I asked quietly and curiously.

"You know that body the two joggers found a few days ago?" I nodded at Chris and he continued. "That was the Alpha's doing."

I tried to hide my shock. Werewolves also had limitations and rules to what they could do, and homocide was completely out of the question. Although, this Alpha was a powerful one. He had demons running errands for him, for crying out loud.

I had been meaning to consult Sydney about the words of the demon at the party, but I decided against it. I would still get the information I needed, but I wouldn't tell her about the demon itself. It was best that way. She'd probably think I was going mad. She'd treat me like she did months ago, like a beautiful, but fragile porcelain doll. I wouldn't risk that. Not when things were looking to get better.

"And this Alpha," I went on. "Does he have a beta?"

"Presumably," Sydney answered then looked to Chris for clarification. "There's Derek Hale, isn't there? The one who's family burned in the fire?"

Chris nodded. "He's a few years older than you, Liz. But I'm not even sure if he's in town."

That settled it. Derek wasn't the new beta. If he wasn't even in Beacon Hills, there was no way he could've been at the party.

"What about- what about a _second_ beta?"

Chris stiffened. "There's no second beta. Alpha's can't go running around turning people just like that."

But they could, I thought. And they _had._ Successfully.

My pace slowed down, and Sydney and Chris walked ahead of me. I heard voices in the wind, as if it was trying to communicate with me. No, I realized. Not the wind. I listened to the sound of the hushed voices, my legs taking me toward them, as if they were in a hypnotic state.

I drew an arrow, quietly, leaning against a tree trunk, my breath heavy but low. Dashing out from behind, I shot the arrow. It pierced into the thick bark of the tree, but not before exploding in blinding white sparks.

I knocked another arrow, this one impaling an arm. The boy cried out in pain. I moved closer, full of pride. Sydney and Chris had found me and stood behind, Chris with his guns and Sydney with a crossbow.

The moonlight cut across my face as I studied the boy. I couldn't make out his face, but he was young for a werewolf.

"Nice shot, kiddo," Sydney muttered, impressed and proud.

I let my bow fall to my side, and the two older hunters advanced, before each fell to the ground with a grunt. There was something else moving around us.

I held my bow out, a next arrow ready to fire, but I couldn't find a clear target. I didn't see anything. When I finally gave up, I looked back to where I'd caught the werewolf.

He was gone. Nothing but my arrow was left. I felt as though it was mocking me.

That was the moment I knew that there were two of them. One that I'd caught, and another that had helped him escape.

So, there was a second beta. And the first was back, I assumed.

Things were about to get really complicated.

* * *

"So, how exactly did you end up going on a date with Stiles Stilinski?" Lydia asked me, baffled and shocked. "Wait don't tell me, he blackmailed you."

I laughed as she, Allison and I stepped outside the school, and my laugh was swallowed by the wind. "Well, it started out as a deal. I needed a favour, and that was how I was going to get it." I stopped walking to face her. "But as it turned out, I actually had fun."

Lydia smiled, as though I were a child not knowing what I was talking about. I could tell she felt happy for me, but she still thought of it as ridiculous, possibly a one night stand. "Honey, you're one of the most popular girls at Beacon High, and you just got here. There are dozens of guys who'd kill to go out with you, so why choose him?"

"Lydia, stop with this interrogation," Allison said in spite. She didn't like Lydia's judgemental tone. "Liz, I'm happy for you. You shouldn't care about being judged. Just do whatever feels right to you." She looked over our shoulders. "I gotta go. My dad's here."

"So, why?" Lydia asked again.

Stiles might have not been one of the most popular guys at the school, and he didn't have the same social status as I had, but none of that mattered. There was more truth in him than any guy I'd ever met. I thought about what Allison said. Do what felt right. Doing what my heart told me to _felt_ right.

"It felt right."

Lydia's face softened and a warm smile grew on her face. "I'm happy for you, Liz. Don't think for a second that I'm not." She threw her arms around me. "I'm just looking out for my friend."

"I get it. It's fine. I'd do the same." I spotted Jackson looking a tad bit impatient. "I think your ride is waiting for you."

She turned back to see him, and what she did surprised me. She groaned. "Sometimes..." she started, as if she was confiding me in a deep dark secret, "I don't know. I just-" Her eyes turned the colour of seaweed. "I feel like whatever I do, I do it for his benefit. I feel like-"

"You don't get a say in your relationship," I finished.

She nodded, slowly, staring behind my shoulder. "Obviously, to everyone around us, I decide everything. But, it goes a lot deeper than that..." Lydia's demeanor transformed completely. Everyone knew her for a beautiful and ditzy and confident girl, but she wasn't that for a moment. She was Lydia Martin, the way I knew her. She was a genius, but she was also insecure and unsure of herself at times. All you had to do was see through the cracks in her facade.

Suddenly, she giggled arrogantly. The old Lydia was back. "I'll see you later."

I nodded, frowning, as she drifted away with the breeze.

"Scott," I said, as I saw him appear.

He jumped in fright, eyes widening as he acknowledged me. "Hi-hi, Liz," he stuttered.

He kept his distance, I noticed, as if the air I breathed was toxic or my touch was poison. He was acting... strange.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm great," he said, smiling too bright.

I internally raised an eyebrow. "Can you, um, tell Stiles I was looking for him? I haven't seen him all day, and I... just wanted to talk to him."

His posture eased, as did his face. "Yeah. Of course."

I was about to walk away, when Scott said my name again. "I meant what I said. You're good for him. But... you need to tell him."

I raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry? Tell him what?"

We stared into each other's eyes intensely. Was he accusing me of something? If he was, he'd better have said it to my face. I could take a fight.

"The truth."

I shook my head, and walked away. I didn't know what he was going on about, and I didn't want to know. I didn't have time for games. And I hadn't expected something like this from Scott.

"I know what you are."

I stopped dead in my tracks. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

"And you know what I am, too."

When I looked back, I knew he was serious. This wasn't some practical joke. He knew what I was.

I stepped closer to him so that we were almost at eye level thanks to the heels I was wearing. "What are you, Scott?" I whispered, fearing I already knew.

He didn't say a word. He didn't have to. As soon as the brown in his eyes dissolved into bright amber, I was sure. It was him I'd been attempting to compromise.

"_The second beta,_" I breathed, knowing that this would change everything, including my loyalties.

* * *

**So, that's a wrap for chapter 2. We got to see Elizabeth's life in hunting. She is proficient with tons of weapons like blades and axes and whips, but prefers the bow and dual daggers alongside each other. Dual daggers are basically two daggers that are used together at the same time. Using the compound bow and daggers simultaneously makes her very skilled in her world, and will in Beacon Hills too.**

**Little bits of Shadowhunter information will be included like I did in brackets and bold just so it's easy to understand and know all the terms and everything.**

**Also, I don't own Shadowhunters, they belong to Cassandra Clare.**

**There was also bonding between Liz and Stiles, and their relationship is going to grow and become stronger. They've got a bunch of similarities and differences that they're going to work through together. As we've seen, the Sheriff, Scott, Allison, and Lydia have all come aboard the Stilizabeth train. I don't actually know if that's the name. :)**

**Scott knows! He found out the night Liz shot him in the arm! Probably not a great start, but they're going to grow close too. A siblings bond. And Scott's trying to convince her to tell Stiles, but there will be complications that will probably be dealt with next chapter.**

**And I'd like to thanks everyone who reviewed, followed, and favourited Huntress in the Night. If you keep doing what you're doing, I'll keep writing, too. **

**So, thanks again. You guys are awesome! Until next time.**


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Walking up to the lacrosse field that day, I found myself thinking back to the conversation I'd had with Scott.

_I followed Scott into his bedroom, panicked and nervous. He'd just discovered one of my biggest secrets and I'd discovered his own. What was going to happen now?_

_"So, what now?" I asked, not sure how any of this was going to work. "You do realize the danger of what you just told me, right?" I stepped closer to him. "They- we're- looking for the Alpha. _Your _Alpha."_

_"Well, lucky for you, I haven't been keeping in touch with him," he said, bitterly. _

_"You don't know who he is?" I asked, surprised. _

_He nodded. "I was bit on the night before the first day of school in the woods. It was dark and I couldn't see much. I wasn't even sure what bit me until after."_

_I was quite shocked. I felt sympathy for Scott, actually. He had been a normal, completely Mundane boy, until he'd inadvertently crossed paths with an Alpha who'd been recruiting pack members. That couldn't have been an easy situation to go through, especially considering he was clueless about the supernatural world and had no one to guide him._

_"Now, I know what you are," he said, seriously. "A Shadowhunter. And I know that you don't follow the same code as the other hunters. You don't kill werewolves."_

_I shook my head. "What's your point?"_

_"You can help me," he said. I saw the vulnerability in his eyes. The innocence. The cluelessness. He really had no clue what he was getting into. "Help me get through this. Avoid the hunters. Learn how to be a werewolf. Live a normal life."_

_"Scott, nothing about your life is normal anymore." I wanted to help him, but I didn't know if that was the best option. I turned to walk out, halting at the sound of his voice._

_"I don't want this. I don't want any of this. Derek said that the bite is a gift, but, honestly, it feels like a curse."_

_I sighed in defeat. I wouldn't leave him so helpless. "I know what you're thinking, but I've never heard of reversing the bite's effect."_

_"There must be some way!"_

_I sighed. "I don't know... but until then, I could... pull some strings and help you out. Provided none of the hunters hear about this."_

_Scott let out a breath I didn't even know he'd been holding. He was filled with pure relief. "Thank you."_

_"I don't think I understand," I said._

_"What do you not understand?"_

_I turned at him, smiling a little. "You trust me. You wouldn't have come to me unless you trusted me. Why?"_

_Scott thought about this for a minute. "I guess... you just have that trusting vibe. And Stiles has been talking about you and I realized that he trusts you. And if he does, so do I."_

_I smiled sadly, knowing what was coming next. "I guess you want me to tell him. What I am. _Who_ I am. I can't, Scott."_

_This seemed to frustrate him. "Why not?_

_"_Sed Lex Dura Lex_," I replied, walking to the window. "_The Law is hard but it is the Law_. Scott, if the Clave (_**Shadowhunter council/government sort of thing**_) found out that I told an ordinary Mundane about the Nephilim- especially under no special circumstance-" I sucked in my breath. "They'll strip me of my marks. I'll become a Mundane. What am I supposed to do then?"_

_"Liz," he said kindly. "Nothing like that will happen. And even if it did, being normal isn't all that bad-"_

_"And Allison?" I said frustrated. "Why aren't you going to tell her?"_

_"Because that could literally get me killed in under 24 hours, Liz." I knew that answer. I wasn't even sure why I'd asked that._

_I shook my head, not wanting to hear it anymore. "I'm sorry."_

_I was half way out the door when Scott spoke again. "What if it was under special circumstances? What if instead of telling him, you_ show _him."_

_I didn't turn to see his face and I didn't answer him, but I think Scott understood when I walked out the room and out of the house. _

_I certainly couldn't prevent a situation in which Stiles found out all on his own, after all._

Stiles was in his lacrosse uniform tying his shoe on the bench. "Hey," I said, sitting down beside him. When he didn't answer me or look me in the eye, I touched his arm lightly. "Hey, what's wrong?"

His mouth pressed into a thin line. "Nothing."

I got up and stood in his way so that he couldn't leave. "Then why aren't you talking to me?"

He sighed, annoyed. "Look, I've got other things on my mind right now. I realize you're so used to people always there, waiting to serve your every need, so I'm sorry I can't do that."

He brushed past my shoulder. "Where is this coming from?" I saw him pause, his shoulders relaxing a bit before he walked away again.

Honestly, I was hurt. What had I done to deserve that? I realized that he might have still been angry at me ditching him at the party, but I'd told him a legitimate reason. And it might have not been the entire truth, but I suppose I thought he would've trusted me.

"Why so sad?" a boy,who was standing nearby, asked me with a mischievous grin on his face. He'd probably heard my conversation with Stiles.

I glared at him. "I'm afraid that's none of your business."

"Oh, don't be mad," the boy's friend said, smirking. "Why don't you and I have some fun?"

"Why don't I just break your face?" I replied, annoyed.

The two boys laughed. "Ooooh, feisty."

When one of them was about to touch me, I lost it. I seized his arm and flipped him over my shoulder. He grunted in pain when I flashed his friend a sly smile. The other boy ran away in fear. I readjusted my scarf and hair before walking away like nothing had happened.

But something had happened. Stiles wouldn't even look at me. Maybe I really was a horrible person. Maybe I did deserve that.

I didn't leave, though, even if Stiles didn't want me there. I owed Scott. I would stay for him. I would help him. So I stood by the bleachers where I'd be hidden from everyone. Not quite everyone, it turned out.

There was an older boy standing silently next to me. He was dark and brooding but still- I had to admit- very good looking, especially in leather.

"What are you doing in the corner here?" he asked me casually, as if he didn't really care for the answer.

"I could ask the same from you."

That seemed to have surprised him. "I... don't exactly go here anymore."

"Figured," I said simply. "And if you must know, I'm not exactly wanted here," I told him, bitterly.

"Well, that makes two of us."

My head turned to look at him. He had my attention now. I was filled with curiosity. "What's your name?"

He hesitated before shrugging. "It doesn't matter."

"There's power in names, you know," I tried persuading him. When he didn't say anything back, I sighed. "Elizabeth Cartwright."

His eyes widened for a fraction of a second but I'd already noticed. "See, you recognize my name. You must have some power over me now," I said, fixing my scarf where it was itching my neck.

"Your necklace," he said, staring at the pendant fastened around my neck. After the party, I never took it off. It held some sort of memory to me, one that I could never explain. The boy seemed both confused and fascinated. "Where did you get it?"

I touched the swirls on it, feeling the cold metal under my fingers. "It's an old family heirloom, I suppose. Why do you ask?"

He shook his head, not uttering a word for a while. "Derek Hale."

"Excuse me?"

He grinned at my eyes widening. "That's my name."

The beta. He was here. Standing within two feet of me. Conversing with me. How was I supposed to act natural now?

He did something with his mouth. I think he smiled at me, but he didn't seem like someone who smiled often so I wasn't too sure. "You know me."

"I know you're a werewolf," I said, as calmly as one could in a situation like this.

"So, you must be one of the Shadowhunters," he said. Noticing my body stiffen, he grinned. "I'm not going to kill you, and I know you're not going to kill me."

The first bit relieved me, but I still felt wary of Derek. "But I could report you to the others." I hated how he had this power over me. I hated that feeling where I was completely not in control of something.

"You could. But you won't."

I narrowed my eyes at him, then sighed. He was right. I had no reason to. I hadn't been told to, and strangely, I didn't want to. I mean, Derek could be a useful ally. A powerful asset.

Suddenly, lacrosse practice had reached a climax. Scott had rammed into Jackson, who now lay on the grass, whimpering in pain. Everyone had crowded around him, but my gaze was on Scott and Stiles who'd just run off the field.

"What have you done now, Scott?" I whispered to myself.

"You know Scott?" Derek asked. Damn it. I forgot about werewolf super hearing.

"I'm... trying to help him, actually," I said, trying not to give away too much.

"You want to help him?" Derek said. "Make sure he doesn't play that game this week."

I hesitated. "That's not really up to me-"

Derek turned to face me. "When he shifts in front of everyone," he said, harshly, "what do you think will happen?"

I met his eyes, nodding. No one could find out about Scott. It would jeopardize his own safety, Stiles's, Derek's, maybe even my own. I wasn't sure why, but I had a strange urge to protect Derek. To help him like I would help Scott.

"I'll see what I can do."

* * *

We were solving math equations on the chalk board in class the next day. I walked up to the board when the teacher- forgot his name already- asked me to solve a problem.

As I began writing, Scott came up next to me, attempting to solve his own problem. I figured now was as good a time as any to tell him.

"You can't play tomorrow," I deadpanned.

Scott groaned. "You too?"

"You told me to help you," I said, keeping my eyes on the blackboard. "I am. You're not playing tomorrow."

"I tried getting out of it, but Coach isn't letting me."

"Then try harder," I snapped, then lowered my voice. "If they see you shift- Scott, terrible things are going to happen."

"I know."

I sighed. "At least try solving it." I gestured to his working on the board. There wasn't any, really. He had to start taking school more seriously.

He groaned again and we were shushed by the teacher. "What's going on between you and Stiles?"

I froze, my chalk hovering in front of the board. "Nothing." I looked him right in the eye, my violet eyes flashing brightly against his chocolate brown ones. "There is absolutely nothing going on."

"I can tell when people are lying and you are right now," Scott said.

I felt like punching him in the face. "Well, I don't know what's going on. How can I when he won't actually speak to me?"

"Give him time," he told me, his voice full of sympathy. "He'll come around. He's still sore from the party."

"Think we're all a little sore, Scott."

"He's mad," Scott went on. "But he still trusts you. He still cares."

I found it a little hard to believe him, so I tried not to dwell on the thought. "Promise me you won't go looking for trouble," I said softly.

He looked at me sadly. "I can't promise that."

After the bite, Scott's fate was completely out of his hands. He was, in a way, prone to danger. He couldn't prevent that, and neither could I.

I swallowed my pride and my fear. "I know."

* * *

I sat in the uncomfortable hospital chair, my earphones blasting music, and a magazine about neurological surgeries in my hands. It was actually really interesting. I never knew Mundane professions could be this exciting and fascinating. Maybe I should start opening my eyes to the world around me.

I would've rather been anywhere but the hospital, but I was Lydia's ride and she wanted to visit Jackson. Scott had injured him pretty bad, I assumed. Another reason he shouldn't play.

I was so indulged in the magazine, I hadn't even realized someone was talking to me. I removed my headphones, sitting up straighter when I saw Stiles.

"Surprised you're talking to me," I said bored. In reality, I was anything but bored. I was paying close attention to him.

He sighed. "I know. I know. I'm an asshole. But can we please talk?"

I ignored that. "Have you tried this?" I flipped through my magazine. "Who knew neurology was so fascinating?"

"Please," he said, brown eyes sparkling and all. "Lizzie, come on."

I froze, a page of the magazine flipped in midair. My mum and dad used to call me Lizzie. I could almost hear my mother yelling at me to take my daggers off the dinner table.

"Liz?" Stiles said, worried.

I blinked, snapping out of my memory. "Fine."

We walked away from Lydia to around the corridor. "You have five minutes."

"I'm sorry for everything I said. I was stupid and out of line," he told me, earnestly. "I guess I was still a little mad."

"Why don't you just talk to me next time instead of yelling in my face?" I asked. I forgave him but I was still upset.

"I've- I've never exactly done this before," he admitted, his cheeks flushing a little.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Date anyone? It's nothing to be embarrassed about. But it's fine."

"Are we cool?" Stiles asked, hopefully.

I nodded, biting back a smile. "We're cool."

He let out a laugh. "Great. I was really worried for a second. But you would never lie to me, would you?"

It was rhetorical. I knew it was, but I couldn't help but feel I needed to answer it. "No, of course not."

Seeing the genuine merry smile on his face made my insides melt. I couldn't do that him, keep lying. And I couldn't tell him. But I thought that keeping this from him might just tear me apart from the inside. "Actually, there's something I need to tell-"

Scott came rushing up to the couple with wild eyes. "Stiles, I need to talk to you."

Scott sent me an apologetic look after realizing that Stiles and I were in the middle of something. I felt as if a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders. But the weight was still there, hovering above my head, waiting until it could crush me. I knew it wasn't going away until I came clean to Stiles.

Stiles turned to me. "I have to go, Lizzie. It's important-"

I shook my head. "It's fine. You should go," I told him, quietly, not meeting his eyes. I understood that he had important things to deal with but I couldn't help but feel like maybe he didn't think of us as important as I did.

"Hey," he said, softly, lifting my chin up so that I could see his brown eyes closely. "I'll call you, okay?"

I nodded, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes. Stiles noticed this. "Lizzie," he said. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I told him. "Scott's waiting. You should go."

He retreated, hurt. But he would never realize how hurt I felt. He began to walk away, stopping when I called his name.

"Just..." I started, fiddling with my hands. I knew that there was insane and dangerous things awaiting the two of them. And I knew that I couldn't stop them from doing those things. But I needed to make sure he was safe. "Be careful."

Stiles smiled softly at me. I realized that this was the first time he had seen me without my usual confidence. It was the first moment he had seen me so raw and vulnerable. It was the first time he saw _me. _A girl who had no clue what she was doing. A girl who was terrified of losing anyone close to her. A girl who believed that the only way to survive in this world was to act like you knew what you were doing. Act like someone you weren't.

Stiles pressed his warm lips on my forehead. "I will."

After he left with Scott, it felt like that conversation hadn't even happened. I simply sat down next to Lydia, silently.

Lydia's eyes flickered over to me. "Everything okay with you two?" she asked, slight worry in her voice. Leave it to Lydia to surprise you constantly. I thought she was too busy with her call to pay attention to her surroundings, but I guessed I was wrong.

I nodded. "Everything's fine."

But I knew that the only way everything was going to be fine was to tell Stiles the complete, honest, gospel truth.

* * *

I stood in my room, twirling a pair of dual daggers. I had to practice some time. I didn't want to get rusty, especially in a town like this. Trouble seemed to be drawn to Beacon Hills like a moth to a flame.

I couldn't help but think about Scott and Stiles. They were at the hospital for a reason. And that only said trouble, once more. I didn't know what they were up to, but I knew it wouldn't end well.

I slipped into my leather gear and boots. My bow and quiver hung around my waist. I sheathed my dual daggers in my belt, and slipped in extra blades into my jacket and boot. Drawing on a few last strength and agility runes, I dropped my stele into the side of my boot.

Before I knew it, I was driving to where the other hunters and I had encountered Scott and Derek at unawares. I finally came to acknowledge what I was doing. I used to do it whenever I had a lot on my mind and had to clear my head. Like how some people ate through their problems, I hunted. And I found that in this forest lurked an abundance of demons, waiting to be slayed by hunters.

I drew my bow, ready with an arrow. A twig snapped in the distance, and I dashed in it's direction. I came to a higher elevated part of the woods. Finding my target, I shot an arrow that way, before leaping into a front roll on to lower grounds.

I shot another arrow at a demon and stabbed one that was advancing on me with another arrow. As more advanced, I drew out my dual daggers, slicing and slashing everything that came at me, moving swiftly and gracefully.

Then came a bigger demon, one that was more human, which looked intimidating with fangs and beady eyes, but I wasn't fazed. I would slay it all the same.

I swung at it, but it seized my arm, and I'd just arced my body backwards so that it missed when it tried slashing me. I used the trunk of a tree for a boost, and charged at the creature, throwing it off balance. Quickly, I took a knife out of my boot, and threw it, impaling itself into the creature's skin.

I watched it crumble into black ash, the wind carrying it away. All of a sudden, I heard more sounds from behind me. In a flash, I spun around and knocked an arrow. It whizzed through the air, before it halted abruptly.

Confused, I moved toward it. It was caught by a hand.

"Scott?" I asked.

He emerged from the shadow along with Stiles. My heartbeat quickened. They both stared with jaws hanging wide open. Scott was more impressed than surprised, but Stiles was shocked. Absolutely shell shocked.

"You aren't supposed to be here."

* * *

The next day, I walked up to this gigantic house that was once probably beautiful but now stood all charred and black. It had been burned six years ago, Scott had told me. The fire killed nearly the entire family. The Hales.

After I realized that that was Derek's house, I felt awful for him. I'd talked to him and I had absolutely no idea. He'd lost his whole family, yet acted as if nothing had ever happened. That was why he was so reserved, not trusting so easily.

I walked up to Scott, who leaned against Stiles's blue Jeep. "I got your text."

Police cars lined up around and part of the grounds was a crime scene investigation, lined with the yellow tape. They made me nervous. "What's going on, Scott?"

An officer was escorting Derek Hale to one of the police cars. That left me flabbergasted. "They're arresting him?! Why? What did he do?"

"That body they found in the woods," Scott told me. "Derek murdered her. It makes sense. The animal marks. He's a werewolf. He did that." When I didn't sound relieved, Scott turned to look at me. "Why do you look upset?"

Derek glanced our way. Scott avoided eye contact whereas I clearly told him _I had no part in this. _Derek didn't look angry, but I knew he wasn't one to burst with emotions.

"This is wrong," I muttered. Scott glanced at me, surprised. "He wouldn't have done this."

"How do you know that?" he asked.

But I didn't answer. Instead both of our gazes followed Stiles, who was casually walking toward the exact car Derek had just been put into.

"What is he doing?" I asked worriedly.

"No, no, don't-" Scott tried warning him, but Stiles was determined. He got into the car anyway.

I shut at my eyes at Stiles's stupidity and lack of awareness, and Scott tried looking anywhere but at the car.

"I talked to him," I said. "Yesterday. And Scott, before you say anything, let me talk." Scott shut his mouth after his eyes widened. "I don't think he's the bad guy here."

Scott sighed as if he couldn't decide what to say first. "First of all, Liz, you shouldn't be talking to him. At all." I rolled my eyes. "Second, how can we know for sure?"

"I can take care of myself," I stated. "You saw last night. Both of you did. I'm perfectly capable of protecting myself."

"I know, but that doesn't mean you should be friends with him," Scott said frustrated.

"Well, we don't know for sure if he's the bad guy," I said. "But we also don't know know if he's the good guy."

Scott bit his lip, trying to grasp what I just said. "I don't think that made any sense."

I let out a groan. "Scott, you can't put a label on him without knowing him."

Scott was silent for a minute. "Why are you on his side? Why are you protecting him?"

I turned to look at him in the eye, saying what I'd been thinking ever since I'd met Derek. "Because I know that he knows me from somewhere." My gaze lingered back to the Hale house. "And I think I know him, too."

As Scott opened his mouth to say something, Stiles was dragged out of the car by his father. "Oh, God, Stiles," Scott muttered.

A little while later, we all sat in the Jeep, Scott and I researching and Stiles driving. Stiles was initially profoundly shocked, but he'd started getting used to it. I mean, his best friend was a werewolf. Another friend being a Shadowhunter should've been easier to accept. I wasn't sure if Stiles would still trust me, but I knew he would've found out one way or another. The situation was inevitable. But Scott had reassured me, saying that he'd talked to Stiles and he was warming up to the fact.

"I can't find anything about wolfsbane being used for burial," Scott complained. He turned back. "Find anything, Liz?"

I kept scrolling through my phone. I was pretty sure I'd reached the end of Google. "Nope."

"Wouldn't you have studied about this stuff?" Stiles asked. "Training, as in."

"Not that I remember," I answered. "Besides, we don't go into that much detail about werewolves. We've probably got a bunch of books but I'd have to dig them out of the attic."

"Alright, we'll have to keep looking then," Stiles said. "Maybe it's like a ritual or something, like maybe they bury you as a wolf."

I leaned towards the front of the Jeep. "What if it's like a special skill that you have to learn?"

"I'll put it on my to do list," Scott said bitterly. "Right under figuring out how I'm going to play this game tonight."

"Maybe it's different for girl werewolves," Stiles suggested.

"Okay! Stop it!" Scott shouted suddenly. I flinched. I'd never really seen him lose his temper before.

"Stop what?"

"Stop saying 'werewolves'! Stop enjoying this so much!" Scott leaned back, his eyes squeezed shut as if he was in pain.

"You okay, Scotty?" I asked, worried.

"No!" he exclaimed. "No, I'm not okay! I'm so far from being okay."

"You know you're going to have to accept this, Scott, sooner or later," Stiles said. I internally rolled my eyes. Scott didn't need reminding of that.

"I can't," Scott said with frantic eyes.

"Well, you're gonna have to."

Scott coughed hard. "No, I can't breathe. Ah, pull over!"

The Jeep swerved, Stiles being startled by Scott. "Why? What's happening?"

Something had caught my eye in that moment. The lilac colour had glinted in the sunlight. I slowly pulled out a long rope-like object attached to deep purple petals. Right away, I recognized it as wolfsbane. I glanced at both boys, demanding a reason for their carrying it around.

Scott looked horrified. "You kept it?"

"What was I supposed to do with it?" Stiles said defensively.

"Stiles, wolfsbane is poison to werewolves," I said. "I thought you two would know that much."

"Sorry, I didn't realize lycanthropy was a course offered in high school," he responded irritated.

"Stop the car!" Scott screamed.

The Jeep halted abruptly, the tires squeaking against the road. Stiles jumped out of the car in attempt to dispose of the wolfsbane. I noticed Scott running out towards the woods, so I tried running after him. By the time I'd gotten out of the car, he had vanished from my sight.

I stood there looking out to the thicket of trees, hoping Scott would show himself. Stiles ran up next to me and we looked at each other nervously.

"I'll go after him," I said, starting in the direction Scott had dashed to.

"No," Stiles said, grabbing hold of my arm.

"Stiles, there are all sorts of creatures in the woods-"

"Well..." he said, trying to come up with a valid excuse. "You're not armed."

I pulled out a knife from my boot, twirling it my hand. "I never leave home without it."

Stiles was speechless. "No," he said, shaking his head. "Scott will be fine. You don't need to go running in to danger, either. We'll look for him together."

After some arguing, I agreed and we drove off down the road, gazing in every direction for a sign of Scott.

Stiles picked up a device I wasn't familiar with. "Stiles, you know you can't call the dispatch line when I'm on duty," a voice spoke from it.

"I just need to know if you've gotten any odd calls," Stiles said quickly.

"Odd how?"

Stiles's face was a calculating one. "Uh, like an odd person or - a dog - like individual roaming the street." Nicki sighed, frustrated. Like they would answer to that.

"I'm hanging up on you now," the operator said, clearly thinking that this wasn't worth their time.

"No," Stiles tried, desperate. "Wai -wai -wai -wait!"

"Good bye!"

"Nicely done," I told him after the line went silent.

"It was still worth a shot," he said. "At least I'm trying."

Hearing the harshness in voice, I sighed. "You're still mad, aren't you? Look, I wanted to tell you-"

"I'm not mad, Lizzie," Stiles said, sounding tired. "I'm upset, I guess. But...I'm more tired of lying to each other."

"I didn't want to lie to you," I said quietly. "But there are rules against telling Mundanes- non-magical people- about us. I _couldn't _tell you. But you know now, so I don't need to hide this from you anymore." When he didn't say anything, I turned to him. "Hey. No more lies this time. I promise."

I held out my pinkie and Stiles sighed, a smile creeping on to his face. He wrapped his pinkie around mine.

"How about we start over?" he said. "A clean slate? I mean, only if you want to."

Initially, I wasn't sure of my feelings towards Stiles. I'd thought maybe it was merely a high school crush, or just a little fun, and other times I'd thought of it as more than that. But lately, I was convinced that I did have feelings towards him, strong or not.

Now, he was asking me if I wanted to start a relationship with him. He was practically asking me whether I liked him or not. And that just made me like him all the more.

"I'd like that."

* * *

**Sorry this chapter took forever to post. I've been a little busy. But, hey, it's longer so that should count for something.**

**So Scott knows, Derek knows, and finally Stiles knows. And now Liz is going to be more welcomed in to their little duo and all their crazy plans. It's going to be a wild, but fun, ride for her. I'm excited to right about that.**

**Please review, favourite, and follow this story. **

**And once again, thanks for being awesome! :)**


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

I shrugged on my blood red coat, checked my hair one last time, and descended the stairs to the kitchen. A hot cup of jasmine tea waited for me on the counter, which I drained in a short time.

"Where are you off to?" Sydney asked me, as she entered the kitchen.

"There's a lacrosse game tonight," I told her.

"Lacrosse?" she said, grinning. "I didn't know you were in to lacrosse."

I shrugged. "A few of my friends are on the team and I just wanted to be supportive."

Sydney smirked. "Would this Stiles be one of the friends?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Why does that matter?"

She shook her head. "Why don't I join you?"

I let out a laugh. "I didn't know you were into lacrosse," I said, mocking her.

She sent me a glare. "It'll be fun. Come on, I'll drive."

We reached the school in no time and headed to the field where a sea of people streamed along. I could see all our team players and the rival team, too.

We made our way to the bleachers when a dark, curly haired woman bumped into me. She was shorter than me and looked to be a bit older than my aunt.

"I'm sorry," she said. "You go to school here, right?" I nodded. "Do you know what number Scott McCall is?"

"Number eleven, I believe," I replied. "Are you Scott's mother?"

She smiled. "Yes, I'm Melissa." Her eyebrows scrunched up as if she was calculating something. "Pretty, blonde hair, violet eyes. You're Liz, right? Scott's mentioned you."

The heat rose to my cheeks at her comment. "Yeah, that would be me. Oh, this is my aunt, Sydney." After I'd introduced them, they went on talking while I looked for Lydia and Allison.

"Good, you made it," Lydia said relieved. "We're going to need help with the posters-"

"I'm actually here with my aunt so I'm gonna sit with her. That is, if you're okay with it," I added quickly, knowing Lydia hated change of plans.

Allison quickly stepped in. "We're cool with it. You have fun. That coat looks fantastic on you, by the way."

"Thanks," I said before I noticed Chris Argent, who just so happened to be Allison's hunter father. He nodded at me in a subtle manner, so Allison and Lydia didn't notice.

I went to find Sydney before running in to Scott. "Nervous?" I asked.

He nodded. "A little."

I patted his shoulder. "Just try not to kill anyone."

He gulped, probably feeling more scared than before. "Got it."

I met Jackson's suspicious gaze. Of course he wouldn't want me fraternizing with Scott. I didn't know why but Jackson loathed Scott. It was an irrational hatred as far as I knew. I flashed him my million dollar smile, making sure he didn't worry. Lydia would kill me if I was the reason Jackson screwed up during the game.

Sydney approached me. "She was nice. I didn't realize you knew so many people here."

I shrugged. "They kind of grow on you."

"Liz?" I turned around to see the Sherrif. I sincerely hoped I wasn't caught for anything I did.

"Hey, Sherrif," I said. In my peripheral vision, I saw Sydney raise an eyebrow, wondering how the county's Sherrif knew me. "It's nice seeing you here."

He chuckled. "You too. And please, call me John. You must be Liz's aunt." He shook her hand.

Sydney smiled politely. "Yes. I'm Sydney. I really hope Liz hasn't done anything wrong-"

John merely laughed. "No, she's been wonderful." Sydney sent me a strange look as if she found that hard to believe. "She's all that my son's been talking about."

Speak of the devil, I thought. Stiles showed up, said hello to Sydney and dragged me away with him.

"Thanks for that," I muttered. "Your dad was appraising me. Do you really talk about me?"

His cheeks turned the color of Lydia's hair. "Um, maybe, once or-"

I bit back a smile and grabbed his hand. "Relax. It's cute." I glanced back to the field. "I'm worried about Scott. He really shouldn't be playing."

Stiles scratched his head. "Well, we tried and that's all we could do."

"Can I ask you something?"

He grinned. "You just did."

I rolled my eyes and punched his arm. "Do you think...that Derek is guilty? Do you really believe he did what we think he did?"

"What, you don't?" he asked.

I shrugged shyly. "Well-"

"Hey, kid," John said, as he and Sydney approached us. "So, you think you'll see any action tonight?"

"Action? Maybe," Stiles answered carefully.

The game went on for a while, and Scott had not received the ball at all. Maybe it was a good thing. He wouldn't cause as much damage then. But a part of me wanted Scott to play well, finally achieving his goal. He was still a teenager after all. He deserved to get to do teenager things.

Sydney and John sat behind in the stands while I was beside Stiles on the bench.

"No one's passing to him," I said. "Why isn't anyone passing to him?"

"I don't know but-" Stiles sighed. "Jackson. It must be Jackson."

I followed his gaze to Jackson and a few other players in their burgundy uniforms. He seemed to be ordering them around. I felt frustrated and angry. I mean, Jackson was my friend and all but he had no right to do that. It was unjust.

I glanced back to see Allison and Lydia cheering and holding up a large sign that read 'We Wuv Jackson'. Looking back at Scott, I could feel the anger radiate off of him. "Oh, this is not gonna be good," I muttered.

When the referee blew the whistle again, Scott managed to steal the ball, making some incredible shots. Stiles and I were over thrilled.

"McCall!" Coach screamed at the top of his lungs excitedly. "Pass to McCall!"

There was a moment where a player from the rival team passed Scott the ball intentionally. Coach walked over to us.

"Did the opposing team just deliberately pass us the ball?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes, I believe so, Coach," Stiles said casually.

Coach nodded. "Interesting."

The game was coming to an end and we were just about to win when my heart began to race. I watched as Scott had the ball in his stick. I was afraid he'd be shifting.

"No, no, Scott," Stiles muttered.

"Come on, Scotty," I said under my breath with my fingers crossed.

And finally, Scott sent the ball flying to the net. The crowd went wild with joy when he made the shot. I was so happy, I threw my arms around Stiles.

He froze and blushed whereas I was so full of energy that I kept jumping and smiling.

"That was quite a game, huh?" Sydney said, smiling, as I walked towards her.

I nodded, enthusiastically. "I'm just so happy for Scott. This is everything he's worked for."

When Stiles came up to us, the smile on my face fell. "What's wrong?"

He glanced and Sydney slightly and I understood that it was private. "We'll be right back," I told Sydney.

"The other half of the body was investigated," Stiles said. "The killer was determined to be an animal, so Derek was released."

I exhaled, relieved. Although it wasn't certain whether Derek had killed the girl or not, I felt better knowing he was released. "What?" I asked, seeing his face. "What else is there?"

He sighed. "My dad I.D'd the dead girl. Her name was Laura Hale."

My eyes widened. "You accused him of murdering his own sister?!"

Stiles shushed me. "Not so loud."

"Does Scott know?"

"No, I'm gonna go tell him now," he said. "Do you want to come?"

"No, Sydney's waiting," I said. "I'll see you later." I squeezed his hand as a goodbye before he ran off.

As Sydney and I made our way back to her car, I couldn't help but glance back toward the side of the bleachers where I'd talked to Derek, believing that maybe he'd show himself.

I shook my head. I shouldn't get involved. Scott said not to and Stiles would, too. And if any of the hunters found out, that would be disastrous.

But deep in the back of my mind, I knew that I knew Derek from somewhere. Maybe I a dream, as stupid as it sounded. Or a distant memory. I wasn't sure. But I was sure that our fates were already intertwined, whether I liked it or not.

* * *

**Wow, that was a short chapter. But this was the ending of the second episode so that had to be done. I like to give each episode at least two chapters just because there's a lot of detail to include and I don't want one chapter to be super long.**

**So the next two chapters will be of the third episode, Pack Mentality.**

**Please review, favorite, and follow.**

**Until next time!:)**


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Lydia and I strolled down the hall, which was crowded with high school students, like we owned the place. I wore a sheer white shirt along with a black blazer and sky high heels, and Lydia in her typical short dress and heels as everyone stared at us.

It felt nice to be looked up to and respected. At least, I hoped that was how people viewed me. I didn't want to be known as a queen bee, ice queen or bitch. That was how some people looked at Lydia, and I knew she wasn't always like that, but that wasn't me. I didn't want a label.

I spotted Stiles suddenly and turned to Lydia. "I'll catch up with you later."

She huffed. "All right. I have to go find Jackson, anyway."

"Hey," I said to him, a bright smile on my face.

His grin was full of curiosity. "Why do look so happy?"

I linked my arm with his and dragged him around the corridor. "We have to talk."

Stiles's face was blank. "About what exactly?"

I rolled my eyes. "About where we're going tonight. Remember, we talked about this over the weekend. Our first real date. Blink twice if any of this ringing a bell."

"Of course," he said. "I didn't forget. I was thinking-"

The bell rang loudly and I groaned. "I hate that bell."

He laughed. "Two more years, Lizzie. Did you hear about the attack involving the bus?"

I nodded. "Yeah, they basically left it out there like it was in a museum exhibit."

His face was serious. "Scott thinks he did it."

My eyes widened in alarm and confusion. "What do you mean _thinks_?"

"He had a dream in which he attacked Allison on that bus-"

"That's impossible," I said, shaking my head. "I just saw her not even twenty minutes ago and she was perfectly fine." I would know if my best friend was a werewolf's dinner. And she wasn't.

He scratched his head. "And that means it wasn't Allison who he attacked."

I was still feeling like not everything was clear. "Why would Scott even do that?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. That's what we're trying to figure out."

I finally noticed the hallway emptying out. "We're gonna be late."

I took a seat by myself in the front of the classroom while Stiles sat in the nearest place to Scott. As soon as Mr Harris began teaching, Scott and Stiles broke out into a deep discussion which of course I could hear. Not only because of my runes but because those two did not know how to whisper. At all.

"Mr Stilinski," Mr Harris spoke, clearly annoyed that his class was being disrupted by two moronic idiots. "If that's your idea of a hushed whisper, you might want to pull out the headphones every once in a while." He glared at them behind his glasses with his beady eyes. "I think you and Mr McCall would benefit from a little distance, yes?"

"No," Stiles said, not liking the idea.

Mr Harris gave Scott a look, pointing at him and then at the empty chair next to me. Scott collected his things and joined me at the front.

"Let me know if the separation anxiety gets too much," Mr Harris called.

Jackson and I scoffed at the same time then gave each other a weird look. Sometimes I felt like he could read my mind.

As I scribbled down notes, I turned towards Scott, feeling the anxiety from him. "You alright?"

"I'm worried," he whispered before leaning closer. "Stiles told you, right?" I nodded. "Do you think I could've done that?"

I sighed. "Honestly, I don't know. We don't know exactly what you're capable of doing."

He bit his lip nervously. "That doesn't make me feel any better."

"It wasn't supposed to." My gaze fell on the window outside. "Hey, I think they found something."

The entire class jumped to their feet, probably excited to see what was happening involving the attack. What we saw was an adult man being wheeled to an ambulance. He looked clearly traumatized and his clothes were stained in red.

"That's not a rabbit," Scott muttered so that only Stiles and I could hear.

Then all of a sudden, the injured man shot upwards from the stretcher, letting out a loud scream. Everyone leaped backwards, edging away from the window.

"Okay. This is good, this is good," Stiles said.

I looked at him strangely. "What part of that was good?"

"He got up. He's not dead. Dead guys can't do that."

Scott backed up and I could feel his nervous energy. "Stiles," he breathed. "I did that."

* * *

Allison and I stood at the front of the lunch line. I grabbed a container of salad and a ham sandwich as she spoke.

"Do you think Scott was acting weird today?"

We glided along as I chuckled halfheartedly. "I think Scott's weird everyday."

Allison sighed at my inability to take her seriously. I added a tiny bottle of water to my tray and hers and turned around to face her. "I think you worry too much, Allie." My gaze fell upon Lydia and a bunch of others from the popular crowd- my crowd, to be more specific- sitting down at the same table as Scott and Stiles. "Now, that's something to worry about."

Allison turned around and her eyes widened in surprise. It wasn't like we wouldn't sit with them because of social statuses. That was low and snobbish. But Lydia wouldn't voluntarily go to them unless she had some ulterior motive. "Lets go," Allison said determined.

Allison sent Scott a sweet smile and sat down next to him while I plopped my tray down beside Stiles. Jackson sent another boy a glare as he made his way towards the odd group. "Get up."

"How come you never ask Danny to get up?" the guy asked.

"Because I don't stare at his girlfriend's coin slot," Danny answered. He turned to us. "So, I hear they're saying it's some sort of animal attack. Probably a cougar."

"I heard mountain lion," Jackson said as he sat in the dismissed boy's chair.

"A cougar is a mountain lion," Lydia said. Jackson raised an eyebrow and she realized she'd slipped up. She looked across at me. "At least, that's what you told me, right?"

Being the good friend I was, I didn't deny it. But I did scoff slightly, taking a sip of water. I didn't like how Lydia played dumb to everybody. It just wasn't the Lydia I knew.

"Who cares?" Jackson said. "The guy's probably some homeless tweaker who's gonna die anyway."

My heel found Jackson's leg from under the table. I glared at him. "Why do you have to be insensitive about everything?"

"Why do you have to be annoying about everything?" he shot back at me, not appreciative about the bruise left on his shin.

That was how our relationship worked. We argued and insulted each other about almost everything. But in the end of the day, we still cared about each other. It was always a good thing Lydia was there to keep us from strangling each other.

"Actually, I just found out who it is," Stiles said grimly. He held out his phone. "Check it out."

The video showed the police investigating the beaten up, ruined bus. "The Sheriff's department won't speculate on details of the incident but confirmed the victim, Garrison Meyers, did survive the attack. Meyers was taken to a local hospital where he remains in critical condition."

"Wait, I know this guy," Scott said suddenly.

"You do?" Allison asked.

Scott met Stiles's eyes. "Yeah, when I used to take the bus back when I lived with my dad. He was the driver."

Lydia had had enough of this drama. "Can we talk about something else, please? Like..." her head shot towards Allison. "Oh, where are we hanging out tomorrow night?"

Allison gave her a blank look as she chewed her food.

"You said you and Scott were hanging out tomorrow night, right?"

"Oh," said Allison. "We were thinking of what we were going to do."

"Well, I am not sitting home watching lacrosse videos, so if the four of us are hanging out, we are doing something fun."

Scott and Jackson wore the same confused and disagreeing expression. Scott immediately looked to Allison while I chuckled at the situation he had gotten in to.

Lydia's attention turned to me. "You're coming, too."

I almost choked on my water. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You know what else sounds like fun?" Jackson asked after hearing something Allison had said, picking up his fork. "Stabbing myself in the face with this fork."

I raised my hand. "I second that."

Lydia ignored that. "Yeah, you and Stiles could come, too."

Jackson chuckled as if he found the idea amusing. "You and Stilinski are a thing now?"

I glared daggers at him. "Just because we're in school and there are teachers around, doesn't mean I won't hesitate to kick your ass, Whittemore. And you know I can."

"Okay, you two. Stop it," Lydia intervened. Her green eyes fell on me. "You two are coming."

Stiles shot me a glance that mentally told me that that was never going to happen. I wanted to keep him happy even though I didn't like how he didn't want to make plans with the others. "Lyd," I said. "We already have plans-"

"What about bowling?" Lydia asked. "You and Jackson love to bowl."

"Yeah, with actual competition," Jackson told her. "I know Liz can-"

"How do you know we're not actual competition?" Allison asked, a challenging smile on her face. "You can bowl, right?" she asked Scott.

The look on Stiles's face told me that Scott couldn't bowl to save his life. I mentally wished Scott some good luck. He would need it, after all.

"Yeah," Scott said then he seemed to think about it. "Sort of."

Jackson leaned across the table, looking at Scott suspiciously. "Is it sort of or yes?"

"Yes," Scott told him, looking him in the eye. "In fact, I'm a great bowler."

* * *

I walked down the stairs when Stiles caught up to me. "Don't worry," I told him. "I cleared everything up with Lydia."

"How did you know that's what I was gonna say?"

I shrugged. "I know hanging out was the last thing you wanted to do."

Stiles trailed behind me. "It's not that I don't want to hang out. It's just that I don't want to hang out with everyone else. That's practically suicide."

I reached my car when I actually turned to look at him, squinting against the sunlight. "Well, do you still want to hang out with me?"

His features softened. "Of course I do."

"Then why do I feel like I'm the only one who wants this?" I wasn't stupid. I knew that our first date hadn't crossed Stiles's mind. I felt like he didn't think it was as important as I did.

He pushed back a strand of my hair behind my ear and I instantly regretted saying that. "I'm sorry. I know you've been busy with Scott and everything-"

"No, you're right," he said. "I haven't been acting like this was important to me, but it is. It's more important than everything else, Lizzie."

I smiled softly. "Really?"

"Really," he said, looking right into my violet eyes. "I'll pick you up tonight."

"Where are we going?" I asked curiously.

He began walking away. "That's for me to know and for you to find out." He smiled one last time. "See you then?"

I nodded. "Until then."

* * *

I began getting ready a little early just because I was feeling nervous and had butterflies in my stomach. I wanted this night to be impeccable.

I got showered and dressed. Lydia had picked out an outfit for me. I groaned when I saw it. It was a dress. She knew very well that I didn't wear dresses. It wasn't because I didn't like them; I loved them, in fact. They just reminded me of my mother and everytime I wore one, I would think of her. I didn't want to feel sad, especially tonight.

I hung the beautiful dress back in my closet, instead choosing a pink floral halter top, a light grey cardigan, denim shorts, and high boots. Lydia told me that I needed to start showing off my athletic, toned legs more, whatever that meant. So, to prove that I respected her opinion, I wore short shorts. You're welcome, Lydia.

After applying makeup and curling my hair, I grabbed my bag and headed downstairs.

"And just where do you think you're going?"

I cursed inwardly and turned around to face Sydney. "Oh, hey. I didn't know you were still home."

Sydney raised an eyebrow in amusement. "You look really nice. Might I ask what occasion you're dressed up for?"

I bit my lip. "I'm hanging out with Lydia and a bunch of others tonight. We're going bowling." I obviously couldn't tell her the truth: that I was going on a date with Stiles, a Mundane. She wouldn't approve and she wouldn't be supportive and I didn't want that kind of negativity. "Don't worry, I'll be back by curfew."

Sydney nodded, seeming to have bought my white lie. "Alright. Have fun, then, kiddo."

"I will," I muttered before walking outside towards the blue Jeep.

"I'm surprised you got here on time," I told the boy next to me.

"I am full of surprises," Stiles said, grinning. "You look great."

I flashed him a smile. "Thanks. And before we get going, can we not talk about anything else tonight? Scott, the accident, Derek, none of that, okay?"

He nodded sincerely. "I promise."

We eventually stopped driving. I saw forest around us in the dark. Getting out of the Jeep, I turned around to see Stiles carrying a large picnic basket.

I stifled a laugh. "I did not expect this from you."

He frowned. "You underestimate me too much."

We sat underneath the starlight, eating sandwiches and salad and pasta, and talking about each other's lives in general when we realized that we didn't know much about one another. It was a really sweet gesture and I really appreciated how he went that extra mile for me.

"Did you make all of this?" I asked.

Stiles scratched his head. "Well, I had some help-"

"Relax. I like it." Suddenly, I saw something glow from behind the leaves of a tree. I got up. "What is that?"

Stiles swivelled his head, looking confused. "What is what?"

As if I were in a trance, my feet took me towards the light, my eyes never leaving it.

"Liz!"

There was a little area behind the curtain of leaves. Like a grove. There was even a lake reflecting the millions of stars in the night sky. But that wasn't what caught my attention. In that grove were dozens of little lights. They looked like large fireflies but they were actually faerie, illuminating the area brightly in different colours. I guessed that an entrance to the Faerie Realm was nearby.

Stiles came up from behind me, panting. "You need to remember that I don't have Shadowhunter or Liz agility."

"Do you see them?"

His expression was blank as he looked around. "What am I supposed to see?"

Then I remembered that Stiles couldn't see the faerie. He wasn't supernatural and he didn't have the sight. I needed to help him see through the glamour magic.

"Okay," I said standing beside him. "Look up there. You don't see anything, right? There's a trick to seeing through glamours. Close your eyes." I checked to make sure he had really closed his eyes before I went on. "Think of it like a book. Beneath the blank pages, in the centre, there's a picture. But to see the picture, you need to flip the pages, peel away the layers." I had held on to him as I said these words, my breath warm on his ear, but then I let go. "Now, open your eyes and concentrate. Flip those pages with your eyes."

I watched his face which was crumpled in concentration. Eventually, his eyes widened in awe. "Wow," he breathed. "That's... kind of amazing."

A sprite fluttered down to us, landing on my open palm. It was an absolutely stunning sight, they were so gorgeous. I brought Stiles's arm up and placed the little sprite on his palm. He seemed a little reluctant to hold it at first but complied in the end, his brown eyes studying the creature in fascination. I watched carefully as a smile crept on to his face. He raised his hand up and the sprite flew back up, joining the rest of the faerie lanterns.

We turned to each other, weirdly at the same time. And before I knew it, he leaned forward and closed the barrier between us. Our lips began to move in sync, my hands gripping his shoulders and his in my hair . My lips were on fire and I captured his taste. I swore the all of the faerie began to circle around us, shining even more brightly as if they were enjoying the show.

I knew I was.

* * *

**So, that was their first date and first kiss which was a very special moment. And I thought it would be even more cool to have that magical moment in such a magical place surrounded by magic. It was truly a beautiful moment. It's just the beginning of their relationship- their official relationship. And I'm really looking forward to seeing how that's going to go.**

**Again, thank you all for reviewing, favouriting, and following the story. **

**You keep the story going so thanks.**


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